The staring starts
by Viscountess Babbles-On
Summary: Prequel to 'In Which They Stare Alot'. Gotta love that sap!


Trying his best to look glum at the prospect of Double Potions last thing on a Friday, Harry Potter trudged into the dungeon classroom. Dumping his stuff on the last table in the back, he sat, Hermione to left of him, Ron on her far side. Harry would have preferred to sit at the very front of the class, but that would have looked suspicious.  
  
After arranging his things to his satisfaction, Harry glanced around the room. Most of the Gryffindors had arrived, but only a few of the Slytherins, Draco Malfoy among them. Draco deliberately caught Harry's eye and winked subtly. Harry sighed. Draco delighted in nearly giving himself away.  
  
Ever since the beginning of the fifth year, Harry and Draco had been closet friends. Harry would have liked to tell Ron and Hermione, but Dumbledore had forbidden it. The unlikely friendship between the two former foes had sprung up when Dumbledore had called them to his office early in the fifth year. He had summoned them there to tell them that their mothers were half sisters, making the pair of them cousins. Not even Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy was aware of this fact, so for Draco's safety, Dumbledore had sworn them to secrecy.  
  
Draco winked again and smirked. Harry smirked back, playing Draco's game. A staring contest ensued and was only broken when someone far more interesting passed their line of sight. Harry turned his head to follow the figure to the front of the room, where it took its place at the teacher's desk.  
  
Professor Severus Snape looked up to see Harry staring at him and stared back until the young man looked away. Harry looked down at his desk and only when his face was hidden did he let a smile cross his features.  
  
Over the summer break, Harry had slowly come to terms with the fact that he, Harry James Potter, was in love with his Potions Professor. He hadn't told anybody. Not Ron or Hermione. Not even Draco, his confidant of last resort. And especially not the object of his affections. But he could dream. And dreaming of Severus Snape had quickly become his favourite pastime. But, occasionally, he would find himself dreaming at the most inconvenient times. Like now.  
  
Harry came back to himself to find his wand in his hand and Professor Snape standing over him. He gulped.  
  
'I asked you a question Potter.'  
  
'I'm sorry, Professor?'  
  
Snape's eyes narrowed on Harry and he tapped the table again.  
  
'What is the meaning of this? Do you have permission to mutilate school property now?'  
  
Harry glanced down and paled. Under Snape's finger Harry saw the initials H.P above a love heart. Below the heart was the beginning of another set of initials. Harry had absent-mindedly been scratching the graffiti into the desktop while daydreaming. And he knew perfectly well what the next set of initials would have read: S.S.  
  
'Ah, no sir. Sorry Professor.'  
  
'I assure you Mr Potter, there is no need to record your love interest for posterity. But feel free to finish if you like. The class and I can wait. I'm sure they'd all be interested in who the great Harry Potter has a schoolgirl crush on.'  
  
The Slytherins all laughed, and Harry had an insane urge to join them. He could just imagine the look on Snape's face if he did finish the graffiti and, when asked who S.S. was, responded 'Why, you sir!' Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, Harry chose instead to simply shake his head.  
  
'Good. You will however, join me here at eight o'clock tonight for your detention.'  
  
  
  
That night, when Harry slipped through the door, he took the moment before the Professor looked up to admire him. He watched as Snape's graceful hands skimmed across the parchment he was working on. One of Harry's favourite dreams was to have those hands caress him, while the Professor's voice whispered endearments to him in the dark. Harry shivered. He loved those hands. And that voice. Hell, he loved the entire man.  
  
Snape glanced up.  
  
'Well, don't just stand there! Get to work!' he gestured to the front desk where stood a pail of soapy water, 'I want all these desk scrubbed down.'  
  
Harry nodded, but continued to stare at the man he loved. He was watching the eyes this time. There was something about them that intrigued Harry; he felt that if he looked into them just a little while longer, he would surely discover some great truth.  
  
Snape glared at him, '*Now* Potter. I don't have all night.'  
  
Harry blinked and hurried forward to start work on the first desk. He slopped water onto the surface and went at it with gusto. Every now and then, he would chance a glance at the enigmatic man sitting just five feet away. He never caught the glances Snape shot back.  
  
Harry finished the first desk and moved onto the second. He arms were starting to ache, so he slowed down. Besides, the longer he took to finish the task, the longer he remained in the presence of Severus Snape. The only sounds to be heard were the scratching of Snape's quill and the harsh grating of Harry's scrubbing brush.  
  
Harry was just finishing the second-to-last desk and preparing to move onto his own, when one of his many glances clashed with the Professor's own. Harry froze. Snape's glance flickered from Harry, to final desk and back to Harry.  
  
His tone was oddly weary when he said, 'You may go now Potter. Just leave the pail on the desk.'  
  
'But Professor, there's still one desk left to clean.' Harry protested.  
  
Snape was suddenly on his feet and looming over his desk.  
  
'I said get out!' he grated through clenched teeth. Harry dropped the scrubbing brush back into the pail and hurried to the door. When he glanced back, Snape was still glaring at him, but there was a hint of. something in his eyes. Harry ducked out and hurried towards the Gryffindor tower.  
  
Giving the password to the Fat Lady, Harry entered the common room. Ron and Hermione were still there, sitting at a table in the far corner. When Ron looked up and waved, Harry made his way over to them.  
  
'Alright, guys?' He dropped into a chair across from Hermione.  
  
'We're fine,' Hermione smiled, 'What about you? What did Snape have you doing this time?'  
  
'He made me scrub down all the tables,' Harry had been about to tell them that Snape had thrown him out before he'd finished, but Ron butted in.  
  
'So who's the guy you like anyway?' Harry had told his best friends he was gay in the fifth year. While it had taken them a while to get used to the fact, they were all still as close as ever.  
  
'Hmm?' Harry had been thinking of the look on Snape's face as he left the dungeon.  
  
'Come on, Harry. The whole reason you got in trouble in the first place?'  
  
'Oh, that. Well,' Harry pushed himself up from the table, 'That's for me to know and you *not* to find out.'  
  
Casting his friends a wink, Harry took himself off to bed. Once there, he realised he'd forgotten to tell them about Snape throwing him out. He shrugged. He'd just have to tell them in the morning. Drawing his curtains, he lay back and prepared for sleep. It eluded him.  
  
He was still awake an hour later when he heard the other seventh year boys enter the dorm room. Within the half hour all was still again and Harry was still awake. His mind kept on returning to the odd look he had caught in Severus Snape's eyes as he'd left the classroom.  
  
Eventually, Harry gave up on sleeping and slipped out of bed. Retrieving his father's invisibility cloak from his trunk, he crept down the stairs and across the common room. Making sure the cloak covered him completely, he opened the portrait and slipped into the corridor.  
  
Then his feet and his mind rambled off in different directions. It was only when a shaft of light fell across his face that Harry realised where it was that his feet had taken him. He was standing in the dungeons directly outside the potions classroom. The door stood ajar and light fell across the corridor, shining in Harry's eyes.  
  
Urged by a strange compulsion, Harry crossed the corridor and edged into the classroom. Harry was well clear of the door before he noticed the room wasn't empty. He froze. Standing not five feet away, by Harry's desk, was Severus Snape.  
  
From the angle Harry stood, he could see the impassive look on Snape's face as he stared down at the table. Harry watched as his beloved professor lifted an elegant hand to the desk and traced Harry's graffiti. He jumped when Snape spoke.  
  
'Who do you love, Harry Potter?' Harry paled, then realised the Potions Master was speaking to himself. Snape's expression grew oddly wistful and he drew his wand from within his robes.  
  
'I know who I do.' He traced a set of initials under the graffiti, stared at them a moment and moved his hand clear.  
  
Harry couldn't help but gasp. There, glowing faintly against the wood, were the initials Harry himself would have carved if left long enough: S.S.  
  
Severus's head snapped up and he glared around the room. Finding it empty, he turned his attention back to the desk. His expression growing faintly tender and wistful, he traced the modified graffiti with one finger, before tapping his wand on the desk and whispering something under his breath.  
  
Harry almost protested as the surface was wiped clean of any and all marks. After glancing once more around the room, Snape turned and swept into his office, the door closing firmly behind him.  
  
Mute with shock, Harry pelted out of the classroom and up several flights of stairs. Stopping when he was well clear, he collapsed against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the cold stone. He wrapped his arms tightly around his knees and allowed himself to grin.  
  
He loved him! Severus Snape loved Harry Potter! Harry felt like dancing. He felt like laughing, he felt like shouting the news from the top of the astronomy tower.  
  
He felt like running back down to the dungeons and kissing Severus senseless. Unfortunately, he didn't think that would be the best way to go about things. Slowly he stood up and meandered back to the Gryffindor tower. Collapsing onto his bed, he ran through all the possible ways he could tell Severus that loved him.  
  
Between one outrageous plan and the next, he slipped into dreams that were that much sweeter for knowing his love was returned.  
  
  
  
Harry was distant and secretive over the next week. Ron and Hermione could not get a word out of him that didn't have to pried, poked and prodded. When they tried to find out what was going on, he would just smile sweetly and brush them off.  
  
He spent much of his free time in the library, looking things up. And when he wasn't there, he was scribbling on a piece of parchment he carefully hid from view. Even Draco Malfoy commented on his distracted air. Harry just smirked.  
  
  
  
A week later, Harry was vacillating between two extremes as he entered the dungeon classroom for Friday's lesson of Double Potions. He had finally devised a way to tell Severus that he loved him and was ready to put it into effect. One moment, it was all he could do to stop himself from bouncing of the walls in excitement; the next, he was breaking out in a cold sweat from sheer nerves.  
  
Settling himself in the same position as the previous Friday, Harry waited for the class to begin. When Severus entered, Harry had his wand out, and was lightly tracing over and over again 'H.P. loves, H.P. loves'. As was intended, the Professor noticed. When he glared down at Harry, Harry smiled back beatifically. Slightly startled, Snape continued on to the front of the classroom and began the lesson.  
  
Harry payed close attention to everything said and bided his time. Once Professor Snape had retreated to his desk and Harry's classmates were busy with their potions, Harry initiated his plan. Slipping his wand and a piece of parchment from his pocket, Harry enunciated the words on the paper and flicked his wand hand.  
  
There was a crash from the front of the classroom, and Harry looked up with every other student. The source of the sound was obvious. Their professor had stood up quickly from his desk, knocking his chair over in the process, and was now staring blankly down at his desktop.  
  
Harry was the only one who knew what he saw there. Appearing across the surface of the desk, written by an invisible hand, were the words 'Harry Potter loves Severus Snape'. The students watched as the Potion Master's face went red with rage, then white with shock. He looked up from his desk to see the whole class staring at him. Harry caught his eye and smiled slightly. If possible, the professor's face went even whiter and he glanced back down at the desk. Harry whispered 'Finite Incantatem' and knew the words were fading.  
  
Recovering his composure, Snape looked up at his students, carefully avoiding Harry's eye.  
  
'What are you all staring at?' he snapped, back to his usual self, 'Get back to your potions!'  
  
He righted his chair and sat calmly at his desk. The students didn't move.  
  
'Well?' he snapped.  
  
There was a sudden burst of industrious sound and movement about the classroom. Smirking slightly, Harry turned to help Ron and Hermione with their potion. Although he didn't look up again, all through class, he felt Severus Snape's considering gaze return to him again and again.  
  
Towards the end of class, he came over to inspect their potion. Peering carefully into the cauldron, he sniffed, and said, with out ever glancing at Harry, 'Detention, Mr Potter.'  
  
Hermione and Ron gaped at him, while Harry did his best not to smirk.  
  
'You didn't even do anything wrong!' Ron was sounding particularly indignant. Harry shrugged.  
  
'He's probably just looking to punish someone for what happened at the beginning of the lesson,' rationalised Hermione. Harry shrugged again and started cleaning up the excess ingredients.  
  
As the rest of the class started to move out the door, Snape's voice rang out again.  
  
'Potter, you will take your detention now.'  
  
Harry placed his things in his bag and sat back down. As Draco passed him on his way out the door, he gave Harry a superstitious nod of sympathy. Once the other students had filed out, Snape strode past Harry's seat and firmly closed and probably locked the door to ensure they would not be interrupted. Giving Harry a wide berth, he returned to his desk and sat down.  
  
'Explain.'  
  
'Pardon?' Harry hadn't ever gotten further than this in his planning, and wasn't sure what to do next.  
  
'I believe you had something to do with today's. imbecilic prank. I want to know why you did it!' Severus had risen to his feet and was looming over his desk, just like last Friday.  
  
Harry shifted slightly. He had never seen his professor so angry, so passionate before.  
  
'It wasn't a prank.'  
  
'What?' Harry had managed take Severus aback.  
  
'I said, it wasn't a prank.'  
  
'Of course it was!' Snape was truly indignant now, and something like hurt flashed briefly in his eyes, 'What else would it have been?'  
  
Harry was angry now, too. It hadn't worked and all Harry wanted to do was get away. Gathering his bag, he stood, 'Oh, I don't know! How about, the truth?'  
  
Despondent, Harry made his way toward the door.  
  
'Potter!' Harry ignored him and kept on walking.  
  
'Harry, get back here!' Harry paused. That was the first time Severus had ever called him by his first name. Harry slowly turned around. Severus was half way down the aisle between the desks towards him. He stared at Harry and Harry stared back. Finally, he gestured Harry to a seat and sat himself. Placing his bag back on his table, Harry took a seat across from Severus.  
  
'Why did you do it?'  
  
'I wanted you to know.'  
  
'It would never work.'  
  
'Why not? You love *me* don't you?'  
  
Severus blanched.  
  
'What makes you say that?'  
  
'I. saw you last Friday night. Standing at my desk.'  
  
Severus stared at his hands, folded on the desk before him. Harry reached out a tentative hand and rested it on top of his. Severus started.  
  
'You do, don't you?' a note of doubt entered Harry's voice, 'Because if you don't, I'll leave now and we can pretend this never happened.'  
  
Harry found his hand caught between two warm elegant ones. Neither man spoke for a long while. Harry shifted forward in his seat.  
  
'Severus?' he chanced using the name that, until now, he had only dare whisper to himself. The man across from him stiffened, but eventually looked up.  
  
'You're my student. I'm twice your age.' Severus was trying to rationalise away what he knew was probably his last chance at happiness.  
  
'So?'  
  
'It simply wouldn't work. You realise that, don't you?' Severus knew his eyes were begging Harry to convince him otherwise. Harry saw the silent plea and responded as best he knew how.  
  
'We could make it.'  
  
'The other students.'  
  
'Don't have to know.'  
  
'What would Dumbledore say?'  
  
'I don't care. Do you?'  
  
Severus meet Harry's eyes squarely, nearly losing himself in the emerald gaze. His whole upper body canted forwards towards the younger man.  
  
'Severus,' Harry lifted his free hand and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen into the older man's face, 'I really do love you.'  
  
The beginnings of a smile on Severus's lips melted away under the soft onslaught of Harry's. Releasing Harry's hand, Severus ran his fingers into the Gryffindor's hair and pulled him closer. Who was the first to introduce tongues to the mix, neither knew, but both were willing to cede their mouth to the other. When finally they had to pause for breath, Severus rested his head on Harry's shoulder.  
  
'Damn you, Harry Potter. I love you too.' 


End file.
